Fereldens in Las Vegas
by theRealSeal
Summary: It started out as an amusing idea...
1. Chapter 1

**Fereldens in Las Vegas**

**Chapter 1**

All was quiet during one breezy evening in the village of Honnleath; fallen leaves that had been swept and gathered at the village square marked the end the afternoon's chores, and shovels stood unattended by doorways. What little seeds had been left from feeding the livestock had been scattered for the birds away from the crops, and the sun had begun to dip behind the mountains as the sky turned a spectacular orange hue; all was serene, except for one establishment next to the windmill that had begun to bustle with activity.

A few nights ago, Honnleath's center of recreation, the Green Cheese Tavern, had not seen so much business as the company of a few farmers and merchants. The gradual recovery of the land from the darkspawn invasion and rebuilding of several damaged structures within the past months had kindled a renewed interest from the crown for making Honnleath a potential trading post; two Grey Wardens were assigned to visit the region and acquaint themselves with the common folk.

A cacophony of song, cheer, and the occasional snap of breaking furniture greeted one as he drew nearer to the inn's entrance. Hooded and dressed in a brown cloak, one would not look twice at this otherwise unremarkable image of a traveler, who then proceeded to join in the tavern's bustle.

"WHO'S UP FOR ROUND SIX?" roared a deep voice from within a circle of drinking villagers sitting in a corner.

"Hey, I zink he's down for the count," drawled another contestant, swaying in his chair. "Tha' makes me number two, righ' - ?"

The villager collapsed onto the floor, revealing the source of attention in the circle behind him; a red – bearded dwarf bearing two goblets of ale in each hand waved his arms victoriously in the air while some in the crowd cheered.

The traveler stepped forward and pulled down his hood, revealing his characteristically pointed golden hair. What followed appeared to be a pause in time as the tavern's clients immediately held their breaths briefly before hurrying to greet their new guest in all manners of courtesy and apology.

"King Alistair! It is such an honor to meet you – "

"Good King, we apologize for the scene, I hope you will accept a shoe shining as a condolence– "

" - do take a drink for yourself, I won't charge anything – "

"Please, calm down everyone," Alistair quickly held up his hand in acknowledgment, slightly overtaken by the magnitude of welcome. "Really, there's no need for all this, I'm just a consort you know, here to meet the good folk of this village and –"

There was a loud belch as the dwarf staggered up to him, laughing gleefully and looking half-attentively up at his face.

"Heeeey, lookin' good there honey," he said with a wink. "You look a bit tired. Mind if I cheer you up with a massage? I'll show you Oghren's special lava roll with a twist – "

"I see you haven't changed one bit," Alistair replied, rubbing his forehead with disdain.

"Uh, carry on everyone! Let us not stare, and greet our royal guest with the welcome he deserves!" the bartender announced, directing the waiters to their tasks.

The tavern was abustle again and activity resumed while Alistair grabbed a chair to sit at a table.

"So…Oghren, looks like you've made good company,"

"You know I'm just too likeable," Oghren replied, taking another swig of his ale. "This much I like about being a Grey Warden; killing darkspawn and drinkin' til I drop."  
>"Is this all you have been doing here?" Alistair asked, albeit knowing with a slight suspicion that his intuition would sufficiently answer the question.<p>

"Don't you have anything else that's good – besides the ale - to say about this place? You know, the queen's advisors have been pestering me and they really need a report by the end of the month, and it's…already close."

"Oh cheer up, kid. They can report themselves," Oghren said. "I need a vacation, a good sodding one! You know how long we have been fightin' the Blight? All that work and no good repayment?"

"I thought you were all given a good share of coin," Alistair responded.

"Bah! Coin's good for princes, but a warrior needs a good celebration! Those girly elf Antivan assassins can get a whole lot of fame, so I say we Wardens deserve something equally worthy!"  
>"Ugh…" Alistair rolled his forehead on the table helplessly.<p>

By nightfall, the tavern's denizens had either retired to their rooms or were sound asleep on the floor. Alistair haphazardly lifted a limp Oghren by the feet from behind the bar counter and proceeded to drag the "baby mule" out of the doorway and into the cold winter grounds.

"I'm looking to hire a caravan back to Denerim," Alistair told an elven farmer who had been sitting outside.

"That'll be twenty silvers…ten for you and the other for…uh, that thing," the elf replied, tilting his head at the red-haired lump at Alistair's feet.

* * *

><p>The three were halfway across the Hinterlands when a loud blast within their vicinity prompted the caravan to stop in the middle of an open road.<p>

"Maker, what was that?" Alistair immediately awoke to the strange sound. Looking behind him, he saw that Oghren was still asleep, and was grateful for being saved from the potential embarrassment of being heard squealing like a nug. The caravan driver opened the covers to face them.

"My lord, so sorry for the interruption, but our horses got startled, we'll be moving right away!" the farmer apologized incessantly.

"No, something's not right," Alistair deferred. "I feel something…strange, like a veil tear nearby…"

"…sir…?" the farmer looked at him with a confused expression.

"Wait a minute, I've felt this before…way back when…" Alistair closed his eyes in a forced concentration, trying to recall the mysterious feeling. "I swear I heard one of the templar captains talking about this – "

Before he can finish, a loud yellow blast enveloped the caravan and sent everyone spiraling out in all directions, hurtling them into a twisting, chaotic void that finally landed Alistair and Oghren in the middle of a desert.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Alistair awoke to a massive throbbing headache and slowly sat up, squinting at his surroundings. Oghren had finally begun to stir next to him.

His first impression was that the air had an unmistakable foreign sandiness to it; strange green, pronged plants stuck out of the grounds around them towards the lonely night sky.

"Thunderhumper, hmph…" Oghren muttered, attempting to get back on his feet while staggering.

"Ow, I think I broke a rib…" Alistair whinnied.

"Huh? Where am I?" Oghren retorted. "And where's that busty babe I was talking to - ?"

"That would be me…" Alistair replied warily.

"What the…! You ruined my getaway!"

"And here I thought you'd come to your senses…"

"What is this barren nonsense of a place, is this all a plot to get me sober!?"

"Look, my head feels like it's going to explode any moment, and I have no idea what just happened. So far you're not making things better…"

"Well sod it, if you weren't Alistair I'd probably roll you on the ground like sauteed nug - ! I will…oh…my back hurts…"

"Are we…on some kind of road?" Alistair inquired, looking at the ground next to their feet. "It's got…weird lines on it…I wonder what it's all pointing to?"

"Heh, reminds me of the floor markings of the old thaigs…" Oghren added.

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in following it, especially since we haven't got any clue what's north or south."

"Aaaah…" Oghren sighed in relief as he relieved himself behind him.

"Maker help me…"

Several hours passed while the two trudged alone in the sand, with no source of inspiration other than the occasional dung beetle or sight of another one of those strange spiked plants.

"You know, I can't quite describe this feeling…it's like we're in the fade, yet everything feels so real," Alistair observed. "This can't be a dream."  
>"Aye, I can't stand those mages and their bloody finger twitching," Oghren remarked. "Gets ya with your pants down every time."<br>"I don't feel any magic here whatsoever."

"Since when were you ever good at 'feelin' magic?"

"Well, at least that much is true…"

* * *

><p>Another hour passed in what felt like an eternity, and never was there a grander sight to behold; what appeared to be lights in the distance signaled the possibility of respite, or civilization. As Alistair and Oghren quickened their pace, the lights drew nearer and nearer; a bright array of multi-colored flashes and hues, as if beckoning their arrival.<p>

"Is that…a village?" Alistair muttered, mesmerized. "It's so…sparkly…"

"Are we there yet? There has got to be a tavern somewhere –"

When the two had finally arrived within sight of the strange phenomenon, they were flabbergasted. A brilliant array of neon – colored signs, as well as two surrounding rows of tall, flamboyantly decorated buildings immediately subdued any familiarity of the sight before them. What appeared to be boxed metal machinations on wheels zipped around the grounds, and people dressed in the most peculiar fashions stalked the streets.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Hold it, stop right there!"

A woman wearing a black uniform with a metal badge on her chest approached the two, who had been standing dumbstruck in the corner of an intersection.

"You there, turn around slowly and put your hands up!" she ordered to the dwarf, pulling out two small metal circles linked with a chain.

"Wait a minute, wh-what's going on?" Alistair sputtered.

"Don't move!" another uniformed man pulled up to them in a car and exited, pointing a strange, small black object in his direction.

Half-blinded by the addition of more flashing lights from the car, Alistair backed into a wall while Oghren proceeded to mock their greeters.

"Heheh, what's this, some kind of ambush?" Oghren commented.

"DROP THE WEAPON!" the man yelled.

"Uuhh - " Alistair was cut off as after having his hands cuffed, the longsword and shield strapped to his back were forcibly removed from his possession.

"HEY DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Oghren bellowed as the male officer gestured to his squad mate to take away his axe. "NOBODY TOUCHES OGHREN'S STUFF AND LIVES!"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Alistair and Oghren found themselves sitting in two separate rooms in the local prison. Pondering their fate, Alistair wondered if the strange happening back on the open road was indeed a portal that transferred them to this strange new world – or perhaps, an unholy joke.<p>

"…unauthorized possession of arms, my bearded ass!" Oghren yelled through the bars. "Don't you know who we are - ?"

"Oghren, I don't think we're in Thedas anymore." Alistair responded haphazardly.

"Who cares where we are? Do we look like some helpless ninny-muffins who can't even hold a shovel against a darkspawn's head? I'll show them – "

A few minutes later, the creak of an opening door hinted the arrival of someone within their quarters. Alistair's jaw dropped when he looked up and saw a familiar face; blond hair, pointy ears, and sharply dressed in a suit.

"The Crows send their regards," said the man, bowing.

"Wh-what in Andraste's name…Zevran?"

"In the flesh," the elf replied with a smile. "And I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that I'm letting you out."

"Hey, what about me?!" Oghren retorted.

"Of course I wouldn't forget about you, Oghren."

"Zevran, we literally just dropped into this world in the middle of nowhere, you have no idea what we just went through – "

"I'm sure it must be confusing. It was for me at first, too," Zevran reassured them while unlocking their cages. "I've gotten pretty good at getting around recently. There is a way out, as I was told by this rather taciturn lady dressed in a purple robe who gives crystal ball readings, and she says it's rather… complicated. But people actually think I own one of their 'casinos', as they call it. Come to think of it, this is a welcome change from what we've been having back in Ferelden."

"You can't be serious," said Alistair.

"Oh, you'll see. Trust me, it'll be fun."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The first source of entertainment for Alistair and Oghren involved a trip through a medieval-themed castle rife with imposter knights and crude metallic battlements that would shame weaponsmiths to oblivion, encounters with gigantic statues such as a lion-bodied man (in which Oghren believed to be the most hideous paragon statue ever to grace his eyes), and an introduction to the typical festivities of the outlandish people in their new world; gambling and people watching.

Once the dwarf was pulled away from a poker table when, having won a large sum of money, Oghren flipped the table and declared the operation a scam, exclaiming that the plastic "chips" were the most undignified representation of wealth barely suitable for use as nug feed. After being dragged out of the establishment twice for pickpocketing by five brawny guards and returning alone and unscathed, Zevran decided to settle in at a roulette table and remain inconspicuous for the duration of his money laundering. At one point, Alistair was approached by a contractor who had found his physique rather promising, and offered a position to him as a "club performer"; Alistair was quick to interject and suggested that the idea would not be prudent.

After many awkward experiences, along with several scuffles with the authorities, the Fereldens eventually managed to fit in by donning their "futuristic clothing" and mingling with the oddballs.

"Well, fart me a lullaby," Oghren praised when their detour through the casino finally brought them to a source of happiness: a buffet.

"Would you like champagne, sir?" asked a waiter, who had approached Alistair with a tray of glasses, a tall red bottle, and a box of fat brown sticks that drew his curiosity.

"Um, sure, I could use a drink," Alistair replied, taking one. "And what might that be?"

"Montecristo, sir."

"Well, sounds exotic, maybe I'll take one," said Alistair, not wanting to embarrass himself with his ignorance of Vegas eccentricities.

Just as Alistair attempted to bite away at one end of a stick, the waiter held up a lit match to its other end, and to Alistair's shock, began lighting it.

"Whar – what on - ?!"

He quickly pulled the object from his mouth as his nostrils began to fill with the foulest odor ever imaginable, burning part of his right palm in the process. The waiter raised a suspicious eyebrow at him before suggesting that he "stick to the common novelties".

Several tables away in a corner Oghren merrily chugged away at multiple pints of fine liquor, much to the amazement of onlookers. To top off his night, two large plates of marinated stuffed chicken, three bowls of clam chowder, and a hefty tray of almond pudding provided his night's recuperation.

In a heavily secured room nearby, Zevran found his undertaking stealthily rigging the slot machines. Somehow, he had managed to evade cameras and security, and took a great interest in learning the mechanics of the control room.

* * *

><p>As the Fereldens lived and learned, the strangeness of the world began to slowly dissipate into a wonderland abound with mystery and excitement. Despite the occasional near-miss from a car or the harassment from authorities, Alistair, Oghren, and Zevran found much to appreciate from the random street photoshoot or autographing for fans. In all sense of the word, their vacation was worthy of heroes, and the complicated task of returning to their home world could wait.<p> 


End file.
